


Behind the Glass

by piq_snine



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Dark Will Graham, Hurt Will Graham, M/M, M/M if you squint, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 07:30:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13876131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piq_snine/pseuds/piq_snine
Summary: The chrysallus that was FBI Will Graham gives way to who he truly was meant to be.





	Behind the Glass

Not much like a butterfly being examined does he shutter. Twitching in fear and desperate desire to escape the painful grasp of alien technique. The scent of death nearby. Wafting and rolling over his body. He doesn’t shutter or twitch in the least like a butterfly, more like a predator adjusting his stance and flexing for the killing lunge. A different kind of desperation leaks into his subconscious. Filing his mind with the potent scent of danger, death, and victory.

Eyes glued to the subject, drawn to it inexplicably. The grotesque so much more fascinating in its savagery than for its viscera. Undulating from somewhere deep inside is the urge to lunge and cut, to hover and grasp, to smell and lick and pull at the fraying edges of his victim.

So much unlike a butterfly. Yet the blood still attracts. Drawing him in as if it would give him the very nourishment he has been denied. Denied for himself. So much time and energy put into keeping his impulsive hands from reaching for that monster inside. The desire was so strong he wonders if he was keeping it from himself or from others. More afraid of understanding the brutality in oneself than for the protection of others. Would he shatter? Like the fragile etymologists trophy baking in the light of attention? A thousand porcelain pieces, delicate still even while able to cut.

“It’s time.” A voice tells him. The guiding homunculus in his brain interrupts his more prey-like thoughts. Run, hide, bite, scratch, and kill before you can be killed. “We have to leave now.”

From his painful stoop does he sit, unbidden from his deepest of thoughts. He could hear the noise outside their bungalow. A cacophony louder than cicadas during mating season. Perhaps the law was not there for them. Perhaps they had discovered what he’d done in the night. The errant impulse unleashed if only for a few nervous minutes.

“I liked it.” Will said again. The only words he said since last night. Like an epiphany does he utter the words strange to him. Admiring the taste on his tongue. “I liked it.”

“I’m happy that you do.” Hannibal says earnestly from the door. “I would love to explore this more.” He walks up to Will, as calm as he pleased. “Right now, we have to leave. If we are to explore this you.”

Not new. No. Never new. But so many new things.

Will looked up at Hannibal, excitement in his eyes. Yes, explore things he never brought to light until when by Hannibal’s side. Of course, that was new.

“Wouldn’t want to get caught.” Will stood as swiftly as his healing injuries would allow him.

Last night was a slip up he couldn’t make again. This time it’s not just his own livelihood that is at stake. This time, he had someone beside him to unfurl the wings of his Beginning.


End file.
